


Monsters of the Mind

by susieutting



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BAMF Winchesters (Supernatural), Caring Dean Winchester, Caring Sam Winchester, Caring Winchesters (Supernatural), Comforting Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Sam Winchester (minor), Kidnapped Sam Winchester, Minor Injuries, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Protective Sibling Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester is So Done, hurt reader, i'll add tags as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:20:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27558991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susieutting/pseuds/susieutting
Summary: A simple hunt, that's all this was meant to be.That's what Sam had said.But then, you should have known by now, with the Winchesters around, nothing was ever simple.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & You, Sam Winchester & You
Comments: 30
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> RATING: E for language and some violence and torture 
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
> First off, this was not beta read, so any mistakes are my own. (If you want to beta read for me PLEASE hit me up!) I have absolutely no idea what you will think of this, for all I know its absolute trash, but we'll just have to wait and see what you think hehe. 
> 
> This is my first ever fic so I really have no clue what I'm doing (I'm so sorry), basically I wanted to write and ended up coming up with this so we're just going with it. This is only the first chapter and I have a couple more part written, I don't know whether how long its going to be or if I'll ever finish it, but who knows. 
> 
> It's set sometime after the boys started living in the bunker, I don't really know when. It has some elements from the show, but doesn't follow all of the storylines so kind of an AU as well I guess.
> 
> Anyway, I'll shut up now, but I hope you enjoy! :)

You grip the handle of your machete, tighter in your palm, flipping it around so that it is backwards in your hand. As you turn to face the vampire in front of you, breathing heavily, you move your feet into a better stance so that you can't be knocked off balance.

A simple hunt, that's all this was meant to be. 

That's what Sam had said. 

But then, with the Winchesters around, when was anything ever simple? 

The vamp smirks at you, eyeing the blade but not looking too worried about it. _Well, you weren’t having any of that._ You had been looked down upon and underestimated too many times in your life, and now monsters were doing it too? 

Not happening. 

"Come on then, pretty girl," he remarks with another smirk as you circle each other, almost at a standoff, each waiting for the other to move first. This guy was _really_ starting to piss you off, and you wanted to end him now. You needed to get back to help the boys and join the main fight again.

* * *

When the three of you had arrived at this rundown farmhouse, there had been way more vampires than the intel on the nest had originally stated, and although you had all been quick to react, you'd had to fight hard to keep from losing the ground you had gained. Something big was going down. It had been a long time since you or the boys had seen this many vamps all together at once. Somehow, you'd gotten separated from the boys and had been backed into a room adjacent to the main sitting room, which was where this fight was currently taking place.

* * *

Without hesitation you lunge, anger burning inside you, and a small feeling of satisfaction appears in your chest as the edge of the blade catches the monster's forearm. He hisses in pain, pulling his arm away while his smile slips momentarily. He quickly regains his composure though, the smile back on his face once more.

"Ooh, I'm in _so_ much pain." He teases sarcastically, laughing.

His laughter only fuels your anger, and with that you lunge again, this time feinting a swipe to the left and catching him off guard when you drive the knife in your other hand deep into his chest, the blade plunging in up to the handle and he gasps. You twist the blade in deeper still, wanting him to feel pain, wanting him to see how he had underestimated you. 

He gives a gurgling cry, a scream catching in his throat before he stumbles, falling to his knees. Your smile is the last thing he sees before you swing your other arm, his head rolling away from you along the floor and the rest of his body falling to the floor with a thud.

The sound he makes is loud enough to bring Dean running to your aid from the next room, and he appears in the doorway blood splattering his blue flannel shirt and jeans, blade loosely held in his hand. You vaguely register that your clothes probably look pretty similar, but that's the least of your concerns right now.

"All good?" asks Dean as he quickly looks you up and down, checking for injuries, and once he sees that you are okay he smiles and lets out a breath he probably wasn't aware he was holding. 

"Yeah, the bastard got what he deserved," you say, briefly returning his smile before stepping over the body towards him. 

* * *

You had managed to startle the nest enough that three of them were dead within seconds of you and Sam bursting through the door, with Dean following closely, choosing to jump through the window to your left as it 'looked way more awesome' as he put it. The looks of surprise on the vampire's faces were priceless, and something you would have laughed about with Dean had you not suddenly been jumped by another fang. 

* * *

You follow Dean back out of the room just in time to see Sam kill another, and as you watch, the body falls to the floor to join seven more already there. Sam looks up and smiles when he sees you, noting the smaller knife in your hand. It was the one you always carried with you, and today wasn't the first time it had saved your life.

A noise comes from upstairs and, ever eager to kill more monsters, you take the stairs two at a time, Sam and Dean close on your heels. As you reach the landing, you notice that all the doors except one are closed and so you make a beeline for the one that you can see is ajar. 

Wiping the blade clean on your jeans, you tuck your smaller knife into your back pocket and get a better grasp on the machete. As you approach the door, you hear Dean whisper your name, and you pause to turn around and look at him, your arm already outstretched, ready to push the door open.

The minute you turn your head, you hear both boys shout and see sudden panic written on their faces. You feel a hand on your arm and suddenly there is a sharp tug, someone appears in the doorway, grabbing you and pulling you towards him roughly. He grips hold of the hand you hold your weapon in and squeezes painfully until you are forced to let go and drop it.

It clangs loudly when it hits the wooden floorboards, coming to a stop too far away for you to reach with your foot. 

There's a moment in which your mind is screaming at you to do something, but before you can react any further, he takes hold of your shoulders, gripping them firmly before slamming your head against the doorframe next to you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 2! I did mean to post it yesterday, but it was my birthday and I got distracted so I apologise.
> 
> Also in other news, I am so not ready for this weeks episode, I can't believe its nearly over :(( *sobs hysterically in the corner*
> 
> I wanted to post this one quite quickly as I'm well aware of the cliffhanger I left in the first chapter, so without further adieu...
> 
> Enjoy!

Pain erupts, splintering through your brain and your vision goes grey, black spots threatening to take over your sight completely. Your body feels limp as you fight to stay conscious, despite how inviting the darkness seems.

Somewhere far away you can hear shouting, but everything is muffled and it's like being underwater. The words aren't making sense and you can feel something warm and wet running down the side of your face. Your head throbs, making it difficult to think as you struggle weakly in his strong arms.

* * *

The boys saw the figure in the doorway a split second before he grabbed your arm. You watched their eyes widen when you turned around to look their way and saw as they moved forwards towards you both reaching out, but neither of them was fast enough to get to you before he had pulled you away.

Vaguely you register that they aren't moving, and you wonder why the two of them are just standing there, making no attempt to do anything. They were both bigger than the person who had grabbed you, and they could easily have taken him.

* * *

Slowly your hearing begins to return, although your vision is still blurred. Now more alert, you realise that the person holding you has one of his arms locked around your upper body, keeping you standing. If he wasn't you would already be on the floor. You twitch desperately trying to loosen his arm in a feeble attempt to escape, but movement just makes your head hurt.

His other hand is holding your knife up to your throat which he must have taken from your back pocket without you noticing and he is using your body as a shield between himself and the two hunters opposite him. Your whole body stiffens at you feels the cold bite of the blade against your skin, realising how close it is.

_That's why the boys weren't moving._

He feels you freeze, and his body position adjusts slightly to make sure you have no chance of getting away, although by this point you know that the only thing keeping you upright is his arm around your chest.

There's a familiar smell lingering, one you are sure you would recognise if you could think better, but your head is pounding unrelentingly and it's taking all of your focus to keep yourself from blacking out entirely.

"That's it girlie, no passing out." He whispers when you try to hold your head up ever so slightly higher. You flinch at his breath on your ear, the movement causing the blade to nick the side of your throat and you give a sharp cry, feeling the blood drip down from the cut.

"I'm not moving this blade, so if you pass out, you die." His voice makes your blood run cold and you close your eyes trying to keep your breathing steady as you realise just how much trouble you are in.

He was a monster. He didn't care what happened to you.

So why weren't you already dead?

* * *

That thought sticks in your brain, keeping it from giving in. there had to be some reason, otherwise, he would have killed you as soon as he had a hold of your arm. Something was screaming in the back of your mind, but everything was still fuzzy, and you couldn't quite reach what your brain was trying to tell you.

You understand now what he means, and his words echo in your head, despite it feeling like it's stuffed with cotton wool. _'If you pass out, you die.'_ You knew what that meant. If you blacked out, he wouldn't move the knife away. He'd just let you fall. And if you fell, your own knife would kill you.

So, although he wasn't outwardly trying to kill you, he didn't seem too bothered about keeping you alive. Neither of those situations sounded very promising or did anything to calm your rising panic.

* * *

Trying to breathe through a wave of nausea as it hits, you close your eyes again and take a hold of his arm that is around your body, using it to hold yourself up, ever so slightly higher than the knife. You swallow and realise that his arm isn't too tight, loose enough so that you can still breathe, but not enough that you can fight your way out of it.

When you blink your eyes open again everything is still blurred and you try to clear your vision, just about able to make out the boys standing in front of you through the tears in your eyes. Both are braced, ready to attack as soon as the moment arrives.

You can still hear them talking, and see Sam take a tentative step towards you, he's saying something that sounds a lot like it could be your name, and from the way he's saying it, softly so that you can hear, it probably is. He's trying to get you to look at him, but your eyes won't focus properly, and everything is still blurry.

"Ah, ah," your captor warns, and you can feel his breath on your ear again. He pushes the blade up until it is against your skin as the younger Winchester tries to get closer to you and Sam immediately stops where he is and holds up his hands, palms out. Your breath hitches in your throat and you stay there, waiting for the inevitable.

"Okay, okay." Sam moves back a step to show that he gets the message, and the figure relaxes ever so slightly, lowering the knife a couple of centimetres. This situation was becoming even more confusing. The guy was obviously scared enough of the boys, _but then,_ _who wouldn't be?_ You think.

With those two facing you the way they currently were, not many would try to face them. especially doing what he was doing and threatening you as well. But he was also smart enough to know that if he did threaten you, the brothers would back off.

You let out a shaky breath as the knife moves away, trying to get oxygen into your lungs so that your body will function enough to keep you conscious.

You can see enough through your tears to know that both boys are itching to kill this monster, and your breathing calms down slightly, evening out enough that you don't have to gasp for air. This time was going to be different, and your body relaxed further, knowing that you aren't alone.

_Not like last time._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're on chapter three! 
> 
> I'm so scared for the final episode tonight, I do hope they end it well, although catch me denying that it has even ended at all!  
> Add in the fact that I can't get the episode until tomorrow because of the time difference [I'm in the UK] and the website I use only uploads the day after! Basically, I'm just going to be a mess tomorrow.
> 
> I did also try to add in the link to the photo of the car that I pictured, but for some reason, it wouldn't work so if anyone could help, that would be much appreciated :)
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

[Around three years ago]

It had started the same as every other hunt you'd ever been on.

In the paper, you'd found an article about people disappearing from a small town out in the middle of nowhere. The town was surrounded by forests and it was only a short drive away from where you currently were, and After just finishing a particularly challenging werewolf hunt, you thought a break somewhere quiet would do you some good.

_Oh, how you were wrong._

* * *

You arrive mid-afternoon, but by that time the sky is already beginning to darken, even though the nights are meant to gradually be growing longer. Once you've parked up and checked into the only motel in the town, you set up your base for the hunt, which doesn't take long. The main thing is making sure that that a knife is within reach under your pillow should you need it.

As you pull the room door closed, you wrap your dark coat more tightly around your body. The temperature seems to have dropped another few degrees along with the inevitable darkness, even in early spring. Crossing the car park, you notice and admire a sleek, black vehicle parked in front of one of the rooms a few spots down from your own. It seems beaten up, but well taken care of and looks like it has been rebuilt by hand multiple times over.

Your car, a dark red 1970 Dodge Charger with a black roof is parked outside your door. However, the town is so small that you don't bother driving to the tiny building that this place called a police station, instead choosing to walk the 5 minutes across the neighbourhood.

You walk up to the entrance, dressed now in more formal clothes. Black pants, a white blouse and a jacket, although you still have your lace-up combat boots on. Your switchblade is in your inside pocket, exactly where it always is when you wear this outfit, just in case.

Flashing your FBI badge at the young officer at the front desk, you begin by asking him about the disappearances. He tells you that there have been six people reported missing in the last four days. Only one body has been found so far and it was discovered by a search party of locals who'd gone out into the woods on day three.

He directs you down the hallway towards the morgue and you thank him, making your way towards the door. After seeing the doctor there, he tells you that the victim died from hypothermia, probably from being outside all night. He says that the cuts on the victim’s feet showed he had been running, but there weren't any marks on his body that you could see apart from scratches from tree branches.

On your way out of the station, you pass two men coming in the other way, and the taller of the two holds the door open for you. You smile briefly in thanks before making your way back to the motel, stopping off at a diner to grab some food and caffeinate.

Now for the research. 

* * *

It's almost one am before you give up for the night. Shutting the lid of your laptop in frustration and moving over to the bed feeling exhausted but knowing that you wouldn't be able to sleep even if you tried. You fall backwards onto the bed, sighing and closing your eyes, trying to think.

Hours of googling and scrolling through endless websites and you were no closer to figuring out what you were up against. There was always the possibility that it was simply human, someone sick and twisted, yes, but still only human, except that six people in four days just seemed too many. Something in the back of your mind was telling you that this wasn't natural.

You'd ruled out a spirit, as they were generally attached to buildings or objects, and werewolves didn't take the whole person, just the heart. However, that still left a long list of creatures including ghouls, vampires and about half a dozen others.

All you could see behind your closed eyelids were the words you had just been reading through, over and over. Yet still not helping you figure out what was going on. You decide to go and grab a coffee from the machine outside, hoping that a caffeine boost might jump-start your brain again.

The only lead you had so far was lying in the morgue and was completely normal. No body parts or organs or even any blood missing. The guy had been relatively young, only in his early 30s, and he was the second missing person reported. Either he had managed to escape somehow in a way that the first, an older lady, hadn't been able to, or he had just been unlucky and had nothing to do with the case at all.

On your way back in as you stir the dark contents of the paper cup that passed here as edible, you notice the black car is now gone from its parking spot. _Good for them,_ you think, wishing you could leave too.

* * *

Sitting back down at the table, you pull up a map of the local area, marking out where the body was found and try to figure out exactly how far he could have travelled on foot in his condition. There weren't any buildings in the area, not even hunting cabins. He couldn't have been able to get far, as without shoes he would have made slow progress and the biting cold would have slowed him down further.

Feeling more awake now thanks to the caffeine and sugar boost, you mark out a radius based on how far you think he could have made it through the woods. In less than an hour, you had an area shaded in, the spot where his body had been found marked by a pin in the centre. Maybe there was something around there that the local police had missed.

Satisfied, you sort out your gear for the morning. Grabbing a clean top from your bag, you change, throwing your shirt over the back of the chair you had just vacated. You plug in your phone and set it onto the bedside table, the alarm set for 5:30 so that you wouldn't be disturbed in the forest. Clicking off the light and moving back over to the bed, you pull off your jeans and slide under the warm covers.

* * *

The next morning you dress warmly, as the sun isn't yet up and it's going to be cold in the forest. After putting a shirt on over your vest top, you grab your boots, thankful for the thick socks you'd brought.

Still unsure what it is you are up against you decide to take some precautions, packing a handgun as well as an array of knives, some silver, and a bronze one you had found in an antique shop.

It's nearly 6 before you are out the door, grabbing another cup of coffee from the machine on your way. You swing your bag into the seat next to you as you yawn, covering your mouth with your hand and turning the key in the ignition to get the heater fired up. The black car is back again. _So much for them getting out of here_ , you think as you pull out of the car park and head towards the edge of the forest closest to where you have marked out a search area.

* * *

Your breath comes out in whisps, clouding in front of you in the chilly morning air. The sky is slowly brightening, but not quite day yet, as dawn is still a while away. As you trudge through the trees, you reach the place where the body was found. There’s still some police tape up, a bright yellow amid the green and brown of the forest, but the place is thankfully deserted.

You strain your ears, listening to see whether there is anyone else around, but you can't hear anything, barely even the wind blowing through the branches and leaves. You begin to make your way along a well-trodden path. Figuring out where to start your search.

Except that something feels wrong.

It takes you a minute to figure out what your mind is telling you, but by the time you do, it’s too late. As you instinctively reach for your knife in your pocket a hand comes around from behind and covers your mouth and nose with a piece of cloth.

You bring your elbow up to try and knock your attacker back, but their other hand snakes its way into your ponytail, pulling tightly and you wince, struggling to grab at their hand that is still covering your nose and making it difficult to breathe.

You struggle, as a sickly-sweet smell enters your nostrils, making you gag, but the cloth over your mouth meaning you are unable to cough. Your head starts to feel foggy, and the blade you'd finally managed to get from your pocket slips through your fingers.

There's a small pain on the side of your neck and you try to lift your hand towards it, but it doesn't move. As your body starts to go limp you hear your knife land on the forest floor with a soft thud.

As your mind is enveloped in darkness, a final thought lingers, fighting to stay afloat amid the sea of welcoming black. The problem wasn't that you hadn't been able to hear anything unusual.

It was that there hadn't been any noise at all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO POST.
> 
> What with the finale and everything I was sort of numb for a few days and it still hasn't really sunk in, my brain is in permanent denial.
> 
> There has been lots of crying, and I've been busy editing for my Instagram too.
> 
> Anyways, to make up for it, this chapter is the longest so far, happy reading! :)

A black 67 Chevy Impala had rolled into town the same day as you had arrived, although, at the time you hadn't noticed. It now sat outside the almost empty motel that the town offered to visitors who stayed overnight.

The evening of your second day in town, as the manager of the motel walks along the icy pavement, the same car pulls into the car park. The manager stops outside your room and knocks loudly on the door, three raps in quick succession.

After waiting and receiving no reply, he tries again but still doesn't get an answer. Two men climb out of the black car and one walks over towards him.

"Trouble?" Sam asks as the manager knocks for the third time.

"She's not answering," he grumbles in a reply. "Hasn't checked out, and so owes me another nights pay."

The brothers share a quick glance before one of them nods towards the man and then they leave him to it and enter their room.

"Dean-" 

"Yeah I know, another missing person." The older of the two walks over to the bed closest to the door and puts down the food he's carrying, looking over at his younger brother. "I don't know who she is, but man she had a sweet car, it was parked there when we got back this morning."

"The red one? Oh yeah, I remember." 

Dean leans back against the headboard, taking a swig from the half-empty beer he'd found on the small table beside him. The boys had no more of an idea than you did about what was taking the people of the town. Sam sighs and falls into the creaking wooden chair by the table and pulls his laptop across the table towards him.

"Do you wanna go scope out her room?" He asks as Dean bites down into his burger, a groan of delight escaping as he chews. He holds up a finger towards Sam, and once he finally finishes, wipes his hands on a napkin before tossing it towards the bin by the door. 

Sam shakes his head at his brother in exasperation. "You know, to make sure she hasn't just left without giving in her key?" He continues now that he has his Dean's attention. 

Dean considers this, before moving to pick up the napkin that missed the bin. He nods, grabbing his beer and finishing it off. Sam shrugs on his jacket and then once Dean checks that the manager has left, they walk along the side of the building, stopping at your door. 

* * *

The lock clicks as Sam pulls his lockpick out and they slip inside, flipping on the light switch and looking around. The room is exactly as you left it that morning, yesterday's shirt still on the back of the chair and as Dean checks the bathroom, a bag in the corner catches Sam's eye.

"Hey," he grabs Deans attention and lifts the bag up onto the bed to inspect the contents, pulling out a couple of pairs of jeans before freezing when he sees your flask of holy water. "Crap."

"Oh, crap." Dean echoes when he sees the flask that Sam is holding, he drags the bag closer and then pulls out your spare handgun, "She's a hunter."

Sam points to your phone charger, the cable still plugged into the wall, then walks over to where your laptop is on the table. 

"If her phone is on, I might be able to track it," he says, booting up the computer before stopping when he sees the request for a password. "Just gotta figure out this first."

Had it been any other day, Dean would have laughed at Sam's face, as he watches his brother stick his tongue out slightly and concentrate on trying to crack your password, eyes scanning the code on the screen. 

But there were lives on the line. They didn't have time for jokes.

While he waits for his little brother to finish, Dean walks over to your jacket that you had hung over the bathroom door. He unhooks it and holds it up to show Sam. 

"Fake Fed suit too, she knows what she's doing." He admits.

"I agree with you," Sam replies. "This password isn't easy to crack, most people just use a name or word, but hers isn't. Something's definitely wrong though, all hunters know attention is bad. Check the pockets, see if she's got a badge or a picture or anything." 

Dean does so and comes up with your badge, flipping it open he takes a look at the picture. 

"Oh, we so gotta save this one, she's cute!"

Sam rolls his eyes and takes the badge from Dean, glancing at it and pausing for a minute when he sees your picture.

"That makes sense." He sighs, and Dean gives him a confused look. "I think I saw her when we were at the station yesterday, I held the door open for her as we entered, and remember how the desk officer made that comment about there being a lot of us? She must have just been there asking the same questions." The laptop comes up with an error message and he goes back to typing.

"It's decent work, this." He continues, nodding towards the badge lying open on the table. "So, either she's good or she has good friends. Seems pretty young to be doing this job though. Yahtzee." 

"You in?" Dean looks up and Sam nods again.

There's a ping from the computer before a red dot flashes on the screen. 

"Let's go."

* * *

It takes the boys a matter of minutes to collect their stuff together and get into the Impala. Dean drives, while Sam directs him to where the beacon is leading. 

When they are about a hundred metres from the mark, Dean cuts the engine and they both jump out, briefly stocking up from the trunk before cautiously walking the remainder of the way along the road.

They reach your car, parked just off the road on the edge of the forest where you left it, crisp frost covering the windscreen. 

"This is it." Sam confirms glancing down at his phone with the map on, "She must have left her phone in there and it looks like the cars been here a while." He points out the frost to Dean before peering down through the window and Dean shines his torch at the glass.

"Hey, isn't this where we were last night?" Dean asks, "Yeah it is, they found that dude's body in there." He answers his own question, pointing deeper into the trees.

"Maybe she had the same thought we did," Sam guesses, shrugging his shoulders and pocketing his phone, swapping it for a torch. "We had no other leads, only the second vic's body."

The boys make their way deeper into the forest, taking care to be as quiet as possible. Walking along the same path that you'd followed early that morning. They finally reach the taped off area, their torches casting strange shadows on the surrounding tree trunks.

Illuminating the pathway, Sam's torch beam reflected off something lying on the ground. He walked over to the object and picked up a knife, turning around and holding it up to show his brother.

"That's the same make as the one from her duffle bag in the room," Dean confirms, taking the knife from Sam and flipping it over in his hand before closing it and putting it into his pocket. 

"She wouldn't have flicked open the blade for no reason..." Sam starts.

"...Which means that something happened here. She didn't feel safe or was jumped. Either way, not good." Dean catches onto his train of thought and Sam nods.

They carry on further down the path, checking for anything else that could have been dropped. There's a soft noise to Sam's left, and he stops, turning towards where it had come from. 

"What was that?" He moves forwards off the path to investigate, Dean following him closely. Their torches light up a figure, lying on the frozen ground and Sam bends down, rolling her onto her back. 

Dean turns away, holding his jacket sleeve over his nose and mouth and groaning as the smell of death drifts upwards, and Sam steps away too. 

"That's Lindsay Moore, the first missing person." He confirms, shaking his head as if it will remove the image of the dead body lying in front of him. 

"What kind of thing does that to a person?!" Dean exclaims, looking back at the cuts and marks all over the woman's body. She is dressed only in a t-shirt and her underwear, her legs a light shade of purple and her hands turning slightly blue.

"Dean, this isn't like anything we've seen, I mean, nothing we've ever seen from a monster."

"You're saying this was done by humans?" Dean looks at his brother, "Like that family from years back?" He hasn't forgotten how they'd kidnapped and planned to eat his brother, even after all this time.

Sam nods, "It’s the only thing I can think of, and some humans are crazy enough to do this. They have reasons, like those people who tried to feed you to a scarecrow." Then, "Oh, no," he groans.

"What?" Dean looks at him "What's wrong?"

While he watches, Sam gets his phone out and types something in, scrolling down before turning the screen around to show his brother. Dean squints at the text and words like 'Greek God', 'Satyr' and 'Spring' catch his eye. He is still just as confused and Sam sighs before explaining.

"The Greek god, Pan. He's a satyr-god and was also recognised as the god of fields. Because of this, he's connected to fertility and the season of spring." Sam shrugs, "I read about him a while ago, I wanted to make sure that if something like this happened, I might have some ideas."

"Nerd," Dean smirks, but he has to admit, what his little brother is saying makes sense. "Alright, how do we gank it?"

"Dean, I don't think we do," 

"This messed up Son of a bitch is killing people, sacrificing them to a _freaking g_ _od_ and you don't want to kill it?!" 

"No, no," Sam holds his hands up, "I do, but Dean, I don't think the god is the problem here, we gotta find the humans who are doing it and stop them." 

Dean considers what Sam is saying for a minute before nodding.

"Alright, then we gotta find them."

They continue walking along the path, Dean slightly ahead.

"Sam?" Dean hears a scuffle and turns around, scanning the treeline for his brother's tall figure. "Sammy?" He retraces his steps slowly, following back along the now muddy ground, but when he reaches where they had found the knife, he stops. 

Looking around, he gradually grows more frantic by the minute and calls out again, but Sam is gone.

"SAMMY!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is the next one, quicker than the last!
> 
> Yes, my mind is twisted and I like hurting my characters, I won't apologise, what are you gonna do about it? 😂

The first thing you register is cold. The side of your body touching the floor is numb with it and it feels like you've been in this position for a while. You crack your eyes open and move your stiff neck slightly to try and see where you are.

Through the dim light, you can make out a small room, empty except for you, with stone walls on three sides, and bars on the fourth, going from floor to ceiling. Your mouth is dry, a sign that you've been out for at least a few hours. You try to lift your arm to look at your watch, but it won't move the way you want it to.

Glancing down, you see that your wrists are shackled, attached to the wall with a thick metal chain. The shackles dig in uncomfortably and after several attempts, you find that pulling only makes it worse. 

There's a similar, cell-like room, across from yours, but it's empty, the chain hanging limply from the wall, although its obvious someone has been in there at some point from the dried blood on the floor. 

Sitting up, you shuffle slowly until your back is against the wall and you lean on it for support, your entire body still feeling heavy. _Shit._ You curse yourself for not being more aware and for getting stuck in this situation - whatever the hell _this_ was. Your surroundings still didn't help you figure out what was going on, although the woods seemed to be central to it.

Now you just had to find a way out of it.

* * *

After hours of trying to think of a way to escape, of pulling against both the wall-mount and the shackles on your wrists, and coming up with nothing, you rest your head back against the freezing stone and close your eyes. 

The pounding in your head has lessened. Whatever was used to drug you slowly working its way out of your system, but exhaustion still tugs at your mind. You force it down. Sleeping won't get you out of here, and you were afraid that something might happen while you were asleep, and you’d miss it.

The cell is only about 5 by 4 metres, barely big enough to even be called a room. Your boots were missing, as well as your socks and your toes were beginning to lose their feeling. It was the same as the victim in the woods and explained the scratches on the soles of his bare feet. You weren't exactly sure the reason for them being taken, maybe so that if you tried to escape it would be harder to run. 

The length of chain that connects your wrists to the wall is long enough that you can make it to the bars pretty easily, and so using the rough surface of the wall to help you stand, you walk over to them. 

"Hey!" You try to yell, your raspy voice echoing down the narrow corridor, although you can't see where the corridor ends or whether anyone is even there. A drink would be very welcome right about now.

There isn't any reply. To be honest, you weren't really expecting one. But then there's a noise, so small you almost miss it. Footsteps. At first, you think your brain is playing tricks on you, that after all these hours of silence it's so desperate to hear something that it's making stuff up.

However, when it happens again you strain your ears and can make out faint footsteps, coming from somewhere above. They sound heavy, as if the owner is tall, which isn't great. If your captor was smaller then maybe you could fight your way out.

The footfalls slowly grow closer, and then you take in a sharp breath. The person is maybe 6 foot, but that isn't what startles you. The disturbing part is the fact that the person has blood staining their clothes. The even more disturbing part was that he, no- was wearing a mask. A mask with horns.

 _Great_ , you think. _A lunatic. You'd been kidnapped by a bloody lunatic._ Literally. 

As he approaches the bars, you can see that both hands are empty, which could either be a good or bad sign. He probably didn't need a weapon to kill you - _if that's what his plan even was._

He stood there, the eyes of the mask boring holes through your body. You stood your ground, daring him to make the first move, waiting for anything that would tell you what he was intending to do.

After what felt like hours, but could have only been a few minutes he shifted, so small that most people would have missed it. _Well, it's now_ _or never,_ you think. _What have I got to lose?_

You lunge towards them, reaching one arm between the rails to try and grab a hold of them, of a piece of clothing, anything. You catch hold of one of the bars with the other so that you don't smack your face. The chain on your wrists is long enough that it isn't quite pulled taut, although you wouldn't be able to go much further.

However, the minute you touch the cold metal surface, a jarring sensation runs through your entire body, down to your toes and back up again. It makes your hair want to stand on end, and you cry out.

Your body is thrown backwards, your back slamming into the wall and knocking your breath away, leaving you gasping and unable to scream no matter how much you want to. Black spots cloud your vision, and you blink, trying to clear them, without success.

You fall to the ground, your legs unable to support your weight. Just manage to catch yourself with one hand before you faceplant onto the stone. The person simply stands there, watching, and although you can't see their face due to the mask and your blurred sight, you get the feeling they are silently laughing at you.

Despite the throbbing pain in your palm, it isn't enough to keep you conscious. The last thing you see as your vision fades is the figure walking away, and then everything goes black.

* * *

The next time you wake up, you begin to move before stopping, freezing where you are but trying to make it look natural in the hope that you hadn't been noticed.

There's someone here with you. 

After being stuck in this room for hours alone, the sound of someone else breathing - of anything really - was nearly deafening and was as loud as the blood pumping in your ears.

Slowly, you crack open your eyes just enough to see a figure sat, hunched over, in the other cell. He's male, shackled to the wall the same as you and looks familiar. You feel like you've seen him somewhere before.

* * *

Sam pulls against the chain, trying to loosen the bracket in the wall, but it won't give. 

"Don't bother," a voice echoes in the darkness from somewhere nearby, and he jumps, not having realised that he wasn't alone. He squints and discovers a thin girl, chained up the same as him. Despite the dim light, he can see her bruised and bloody wrists.

"I already tried."

The shackles graze against her wrists as she changes position, and she winces as the raw skin - no doubt caused by trying to pull free - rubs against the metal. She sits up and attempts to get comfortable, although, in these stone cells, it was rather difficult. 

"Hey, you're the hunter we were looking for," he says, eyes widening as he moves forwards to get closer to her and she looks at him, realising what he had just said.

"No!" She suddenly cries out as Sam goes to wrap his hand around the steel bar in front of him. Sitting up straight, she holds her hand out in a warning motion, looking at him with panic in her eyes. He stops, looking at her in confusion and shock. 

"They're electric," she whispers, pain filling her voice as she slumps back against the wall. All the adrenaline disappearing from her body in a rush, leaving her tired and aching once more.

Sam looks at her, sympathy written across his face. he noticed the burn on the palm of her left hand as she warned him. There is only one way she could have discovered that.


	6. Chapter 6

Your entire body aches as you sit there, freezing in the corner of the cold stone room. The guy in the cell across from you - Sam, was talking about how he and his brother had been here for the past couple of days trying to figure out what was going on. They hadn't known there was another hunter around.

"It's a lunatic," you say simply, half shrugging your shoulders. "A weirdo in a mask who's decided to start killing people."

He looks across at you, "You've seen him?"

You nod, brushing the hair out of your face that had fallen loose, not bothering to fix it. _What was the point?_

"Wait, you said a mask. Can you describe it?" Sam seems genuinely interested, and so you oblige, there was no harm to it.

"It was covering his face. Oh, and it had horns. Like I said, weird." Sam thinks about this for a second before turning back to you.

"Y/N, have you ever heard about a God named Pan?" 

You bring your gaze up to meet his green eyes, which you can just about make out in the darkness and frown in thought before slowly nodding your head again. Thinking back to a while ago when you were flicking through pages of lore on a library computer, the name rang a bell. 

"He's from ancient Greek mythology, right? A Satyr-God, known as the god of the wild, and um... He's connected to Spring too I think. Something to do with fertility and crops- no, fields."

You smile slightly, not realising how much you had taken in when you had been scanning the computer screen. Sam looks a little impressed and you blush, glad that he can't see your red cheeks due to the lack of light.

"Yeah," he says with a smile. "Anything else you can remember?"

"He's got legs like a goat and has horns..." you trail off, realising what Sam is getting at. "Hang on, you think...?"

He shifts, sitting up slightly and answers. "Yeah, before I got knocked out, my brother, Dean and I found a body. It was Lindsay Moore-"

"The first victim," you interrupt, taking a minute to think back to the case files you had seen, before realising that Sam was waiting. "Sorry, go on." He chuckles lightly and seems to find your eagerness entertaining.

"She was in the woods, but it looked, sort of like a ritualistic killing, rather than a serial killer or a monster. So, I thought back to something I had read near the start of the year, as I knew that different gods were connected to different seasons and wanted to be prepared just in case." It's your turn to chuckle now, the two of you were more similar than you had originally thought. 

"Dean and I thought that it might be someone sacrificing to Pan. We ran into a town years ago that was doing something similar for a Pagan god. But what you said about the mask doesn't fit." He frowns at the floor in concentration, trying to think of something that fitted into the lore.

"What if the sicko actually thinks that _they_ are the god?" You suggest. He stares at you for a second, long enough that you begin to think that your suggestion was stupid, and you are about to say something to break the silence when he nods slowly. 

"You know, that would make sense. In a twisted way of course," he adds, seeing the look on your face.

"Ugh," you shudder, partly due to the cold and partly because of the idea that someone would be that messed up - to think they were a god. Monsters you understood, but people were just damn weird.

 _Well, at least now we know what we're up against,_ you think bitterly, _a fat lot of good it'll do us from in here._ Hugging your knees up to your chest as best you could, you wrap one arm around them before carefully placing your injured hand on top.

The pain in it had lessened to a dull throb, the cold also reducing the feeling although that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

* * *

It had been at least a few hours since you had woken up again, but nothing had changed. 

The light didn't reach where the two of you were, and so you had no way of knowing whether it was day or night. Both yours and Sam's watches had been taken, and you couldn't even see the sun to guess at the time.

Sam had been talking some of the time, but you mainly just sat there in silence, neither of you able to think of a way out. He kept trying to reassure you that his brother was coming and that everything would be okay. For the most part, you believed him, but somewhere in your mind was a worm of constant doubt, and there wasn't anything you could do to block it out.

You were shivering more violently now, and although you still had on your jeans and coat, your body temperature was continuing to fall due to the fact that there wasn't anything on your feet. Sam had begun to notice. The last thing you wanted was him worrying about you, he had enough to deal with, without your problems too.

"Hey, Y/N."

It takes you a minute to realise that he is trying to get your attention, but when you don't reply he tries again.

"We're gonna be okay, you hear me?"

You nod, not trusting your voice at this moment in time but still wanting to let him know that you believe him.

"Hey, look at me Y/N." He repeats and you meet his eye, trying to remove any emotion from your face. 

When you look up, you are surprised to find him on his knees facing towards you, gazing between the bars. Fear shoots through you before you realise that he's far enough away from them and doesn't look like he has any intention of touching the metal. 

Somehow, he has managed to rip his shirt from under his jacket and is holding it in his hand. He offers it out to you, about to throw it across the gap.

"Here, wrap this around your feet. It'll keep them warm." You begin to shake your head, but he throws it across before you can protest. The shirt lands within your reach which you are thankful for as you don't think you’d have been able to get up if it had been further away.

You pick it up, feeling it's warmth from his body heat. It smells musty, like old books. Placing it under the soles of your feet to, you wrap it over them, smiling gratefully at Sam in a silent thanks.

* * *

It's only a little while later that you hear it. 

Faint and somewhere far away, but a noise, nonetheless.

You sit up straighter and, having noticed it at the same time, Sam slowly gets to his feet, taking care to avoid the bars. He glances across at you, but you are concentrating on listening and don't meet his eye.

A minute or two passes before you hear it again, closer this time, though you still can't figure out what it is. You look towards Sam, wordlessly asking him whether he had any ideas. He shakes his head but cranes his neck to try to see down the corridor as footsteps echo along the empty passage. You freeze, thinking that the creep in the mask is back and Sam notices, but then he sees you relax slightly, which is enough to tell him that it's not your captor. The steps are not heavy enough. _So, who could it be?_

Light footfalls make their way towards your cells, and the look on Sam's face as he recognises them sends hope hurtling through your body.

"Dean!" If you thought Sam had looked relieved, the expression on his brother's face is tenfold, you can see that even through the blinding light that pierces your eyes. You wince moving your hand up to block it, and the beam is immediately dropped as you hear another voice.

"Heya, Sammy," Dean says with a grin, but before he can touch the lock on the cage Sam warns him.

"Dean, no, wait. The bars are electrified, you gotta go cut the power from somewhere." Dean hesitates, glancing at the chains on his brother's wrists, but Sam continues.

"Dean, we're fine, just be quick okay?" 

He nods. "Okay, I think I saw a box somewhere back that way, I'll go take a look. Hang on." He hurries back the way he came, and Sam looks across towards you again in reassurance.

"See? We'll be okay, Dean will sort it."

You nod once more, just feeling tired now after everything that had happened and wanting it to be over.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's past 1 am and I've got insomnia so here's the next chapter. Who needs sleep anyway?
> 
> Have some softness and fluff before the shit show that is the next few, because apparently, I can only write angst and pain. 

There's a loud bang from somewhere down the corridor which immediately has Sam on full alert.

"Dean?"

"All good Sammy!" Comes his reply and Sam breathes out, visibly relaxing. _These two,_ you think, shaking your head but still finding it amusing. 

Dean comes jogging back, pulling out a lockpick set from his pocket and passing it to Sam through the bars, who takes the kit from him and begins work on his cuffs as Dean turns towards you.

"I pulled all the cables out so they should be off," he explains, though you still tense up as he gingerly taps a finger against the metal, sighing when nothing happens. He notices but thankfully doesn't say anything.

"Hey, I'm Dean," he says with a smile.

You return the expression as he unlocks your door and comes over to where you are curled up on the floor, crouching down beside you. You sit up when he comes towards you and slowly lift your wrists so that he can unlock them. He puts the torch between his teeth and after briefly glancing at the raw skin underneath the cuffs, he does so.

You wince as one of the cuffs touches against the sore skin, and Dean immediately apologises as he slips it off.

"We can patch those up when we get back to the car," he says, nodding at your injuries. Then he grabs a bottle of water from the bag over his shoulder and opens it before passing it to you. You take a few mouthfuls, closing your eyes as the liquid soothes your dry throat.

"Thanks," you whisper. It's been a while since you have spoken, and your voice comes out in a croak. You pass it back to him and after capping it he chucks it to Sam, who is now free, through the open door and stands. 

"Can you stand?" he asks.

You nod, mentally crossing your fingers in the hope that you are right. You grip hold of the wall beside you with the fingertips of your injured left hand, moving your uninjured one to the floor and straightening out your legs.

Your limbs protest at first, having been in the same position for so long, and Dean moves to help you. Taking your right arm over his shoulder and putting one arm around your back, he gently pulls you up until you are standing, only leaning slightly on the wall.

"Did you find our shoes?" Sam asks his brother, as he takes his shirt from you when you pass it back over to him. "My feet are freezing."

Dean chuckles at that. "Stop complaining Sammy, at least you haven't been sacrificed to a god." He pulls out another torch and a gun, giving both to Sam who clicks on the light. "We can have a look upstairs before we go." Sam shakes his head at his brother's joke, and you could tell he was used to them - he'd probably been dealing with it his whole life.

"Come on," Dean continues, let's get out of here." He leads the way. Sam follows behind next to you, lighting up the passage so that you can concentrate on walking, using the wall to keep yourself steady. Sam's injuries aren't as bad as yours, since you'd been there longer and had been pulling at your cuffs for a long time.

"Dean, this is Y/N. She's the hunter we were looking for." Sam introduces you, and you only just realise that you hadn't actually told Dean your name.

"Yeah, I got that Sam, I recognise her from the photo."

"Wait," you interrupt, your voice stronger now. "The one in my badge? Oh, god that one’s awful. I was half asleep and running on caffeine when I got it done." Dean laughs at that, and you find yourself smiling.

"How did you find us?" Sam asks, and Dean glances back at his brother. 

"I used my little brother radar of course." He jokes, and Sam rolls his eyes, giving his brother one of the best bitch faces you have ever seen which makes you laugh out loud. 

"Nah man, I tracked your phone, here." He takes out a mobile and hands it to Sam, "It was in a building nearby with a bunch of other stuff, there were shoes in there too I think." He looks at you then, "We can go see if any of it is yours if you want?"

You nod, and Dean stops for a second, reaching a hand into his coat pocket and pulling out your knife. 

"This is yours too I think." Your eyes light up when you see what he is holding and you take it from him in your right hand, flipping open the blade and running your fingers along the smooth surface, the familiarity of it calming you as you smile to yourself.

"Yeah, thanks." You close it again and shove it into your back pocket.

* * *

There's a set of stairs at the end of the tunnel, and once you reach the top you have to stop for a minute to allow your eyes to adjust to the light. You emerge out into the forest and the mid-afternoon sun, although weak, feels nice on your face.

It hits you then, that you had been down there for over a day and a half, and your stomach grumbles in response. 

Glancing behind you at where you'd just come from, you only see a shadow beside a low wall, the stone structure is so overgrown with moss and grass that you would have missed it entirely, had you not just climbed out of it. You squint through the trees, trying to figure out where you are. As if reading your mind, Dean explains.

"We're in the ruins of an abandoned factory. It was from years ago and isn't marked on any of the online maps." _That makes sense._ You think to yourself, _it's probably why you didn't see it when you were doing your research_.

"How far are we from where you found the bodies?" You ask. Dean tries to hide his surprise at the question, without much success.

"Far enough that it took me way too long to find you," is all he says, clapping his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Come on, the office is this way."

Your feet, still bare, sink slightly into the mud. It is soft between your toes and you try to avoid standing on anything that looks sharp. It turns out that what looks like it had used to be an office for the factory is still partially standing, complete with a roof and a door, although the glass in the windows is long gone.

The change in pressure and height is making your head spin slightly, and when you reach the room, you use a table to lean against, not wanting to fall over. Sam notices your breathing change and comes over.

"Are you okay Y/N?" he says concern just edging his voice. You nod, then realise movement makes your head hurt and so decide to speak instead.

"Yeah, I'm good, just a bit dizzy," you answer, looking up at him once the room stops spinning and trying to give him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, honestly."

"Dean, have you got any food in the bag?" Sam asks his brother, who is busy sifting through a pile of stuff on a different table. He looks over and sees you, then puts down the bag, rummaging through it.

"Ah hah!" He says triumphantly, pulling out a cereal bar. "Ugh, it's one of your healthy things." He tosses it over and Sam catches it from him, pulling a chair over for you to sit on. He tears it open, then passes you the bar and you take a small bite, chewing it slowly. 

"Thank you," you say once more. _Wow, that seems to be the only thing you've said to them since you met._ Sam goes over to a pile of shoes in the corner and pulls out a pair, leaning against the wall and pulling them on.

"Which ones are yours?" He asks, and you point to your black laced boots that are near the top. He brings them over and begins to start undoing the laces when you protest.

"Sam, I got it," you say, and he nods, moving to join his brother. Though he tries to hide it, you can still see him watching you out of the corner of his eye. 

It's a good job he is watching because otherwise, you'd probably be dead. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, someone's gotta tell me to go to bed at some point. 
> 
> Here's the next chapter that I'm totally not posting at 3 am 
> 
> I did warm you about what was to come...

Although he tries, Sam doesn't react quite fast enough when the masked figure appears silently in the doorway. Dean is busy looking through the belongings on the table, his back to the door so he doesn't notice. You've just finished tying your boots and are standing up from the chair, feeling better after the small amount of food, when you see him.

You are paralysed by a feeling of fear that you didn't know you possessed. In two quick strides, he is standing next to you, and as he reaches out towards you, you are powerless to move, glued to the spot.

Sam starts towards you, quickly yelling to Dean to get his ass into gear. You try to recover from whatever is rooting you to the floor, but not quite fast enough as he wraps a hand around your throat, forcing you backwards as he pushes you up against the wall. 

You immediately scrape at his fingers, ignoring the pain that flares from your wrists when your sore skin brushes against his arm. The minute he touches you, Sam and Dean freeze, not wanting to aggravate him any further or push him into doing anything.

"Why aren't you worshipping me, mortal?" His voice is deep, gravelly. It's the first time you've heard him speak. The boys are standing there poised, Sam looks like he wants to jump onto the guys back, and probably would've already if he didn't have hold of you. Both brothers stand there, guns raised, unable to do anything, probably afraid of shooting you if they missed him. 

"I am a GOD! You should be on your knees!" He carries on, aiming his words at them while he keeps his face towards you. 

You want to tell Sam and Dean to go ahead, that you'd be fine, but even though you'd only known them for a short time, you can tell they would never risk it. His grip isn't too tight around your neck, so you go for a more direct approach to try and get him to let go. 

"Not interested, thanks." You reply, trying to sound bored. "Maybe if you were the real thing I'd think about it, but you're not so I'll pass."

He seems rather surprised by your response, not expecting you to be quite so bold, and you meet Sam's eye briefly. He shakes his head at you, eyes wide but you ignore him, returning your gaze to the mask in front of you.

Unfortunately - though you probably should have predicted it really - instead of letting go, he just gets angrier and tightens his grip around your throat. 

"BOW BEFORE ME!" he bellows, and now unable to breathe, one of your hands falls to your side. Your vision is starting to blur, but this guy is just getting on your nerves now.

"Hey!" Sam and Dean try to get his attention and attempt to get him to let go of you, but he doesn't move. He does, however, glance over at them briefly, and you take the small chance that they have given you. He doesn't notice you slowly reaching your hand behind you and slipping your fingers into your back pocket, pulling out your knife and flicking it open.

You move quickly, well aware that you aren't going to be conscious for much longer, and stab your knife into the shoulder of the arm that is holding you. He instantly drops you onto the floor in front of him, staggering back slightly as he moans in pain and clamps his hand over the wound.

Your knife clatters to the floor in front of you, and you leave it where it lands. You look up at him through the tears in your eyes, rubbing your neck where he had gripped it. 

"Nah." You say simply, trying to put as much defiance into that one word as possible. Your voice comes out in no more than a whisper but he still hears it.

That's when he snaps, but you're ready for it and roll out of the way before he can touch you. Then Sam and Dean are there. Dean jumps onto the guy's back, locking his arms around his neck. Swinging around, your captor is distracted from you as he tries to get the hunter off.

Sam immediately starts towards you, but you wave him off.

"I'm fine, I'm good," you rasp, and his gaze lingers a second longer, watching you unsteadily climb to your feet before he goes to help his brother, who is now facing off against the giant towering in front of him.

You watch from where you are standing, leaning on the wall for support as every breath you take brings more oxygen back into your body. Your sight clears, and you have to admit that these two know what they are doing.

You watch Dean get knocked aside, but he just comes back again, twice as much energy in his swings. The person is taller than Sam, which is saying something because _ , god that boy is tall, _ but the guys manage well, despite the odds. That is until he elbows Sam so hard in the face, that he is sent flying backwards, crashing into the wall and falling unconscious onto the floor.

"Sammy!" You hear Dean yell even as you are moving across to the fallen hunter, crouching down and taking his face in your hands, patting his cheek to try and wake him up.

There's another cry from Dean, a warning shout to you, but before you can react, a hand grabs your hair, pulling roughly from behind. You scramble to your feet again to avoid losing all of your hair, just as Sam's eyes begin to open. Your eyes meet his as he watches you be dragged away from where he is sat on the floor.

Your head is jerked upwards and you spot Dean, sprawled on the floor on the other side of one of the tables. He's awake but is struggling to get up and then you find yourself staring at that mask once more. 

Suddenly, through the scuffling, you hear a gunshot echo, and he falls, dropping to the ground like a stone in the ocean. Because his fingers are still wrapped in your hair, you end up going down with him although you manage to catch yourself at the last second before you land on top of the body.

"Haha!" Dean cheers from where he has staggered to his feet. "Bullet one, goat dude nil," he says with a grin. "You good Sammy?" He looks over at his brother who nods, sitting up straighter and dropping the gun he had just fired. He breathes heavily, running his hand over his face. 

The three of you sit in silence for a couple of minutes as you all catch your breath. You've crawled away from the growing pool of blood on the floor and sit with your back to a table leg. But then Sam looks over at you. 

"Really?  _ 'Not interested, thanks' _ ?!" Dean smirks as Sam recalls what you had said, but he quickly hides it when Sam looks over at him. He isn't laughing. You lower your gaze, fiddling with the edge of your coat and pulling at a loose thread. 

"Seriously, Y/N, he could have killed you!"

You shrug, standing up and pushing away from the table, still not meeting his gaze. 

"He didn't though."

"That's not the point!" You could see Sam wasn't going to let this go any time soon and so you make your way towards the table behind Dean, picking up your watch, car keys, handgun and a couple of other things that are yours. You pocket the keys and watch, then tuck the gun into the back of your jeans. 

"Look, I'm fine, just drop it okay? He was an asshole and was getting on my nerves. He got what he deserved." You glance briefly down at the body on the floor, your chest filling with hatred.

"But-" he protests and you move back towards the doorway, needing to get out of that room, despite the fact that the temperature was the same as inside. You stop to pick up your knife which is still lying on the floor where it fell and you wipe the blade clean on your jean leg before folding it and putting it away.

"Hey, Sam." Dean comes to your rescue and as you make your way out the doorway, you hear him talking to his brother, trying to calm him down. 

* * *

The boys follow you out a short while later, and the three of you, with Dean leading the way, make your way to where he parked his car. The sleek black car you had noticed on your first day in town.  _ So that's why it didn't leave, _ you realise, the facts clicking into place in your head.

Sam looks calmer now, although you can tell that he's still angry inside. He pulls open the trunk of the car with force and reaches in to retrieve a medical kit. He has you sit on the edge of the back seat, and carefully cleans and dresses the injuries on your wrists. 

Even in his current state of mind, he doesn't cause you any more pain than is necessary. You sit there with nobody saying anything, until Dean turns the car's radio on, probably because he can't stand the awkward silence. 

Next, Sam moves on to the palm of your left hand and applies some sort of cream, that instantly cools the burnt skin, before wrapping it in soft gauze and you sigh. The feeling of electricity running through your body is still very much in your mind.

"There," he says softly once he has finished. He looks up at you from where he is crouched in front of you and smiles.

You are secretly grateful for the music as Dean drives back to where you had parked your car, and before you get out of the impala, you turn to face them both. 

"Thank you," you say, for what feels like the tenth time today. Although you were annoyed at yourself for even getting into the situation in the first place, you had to admit that you were grateful for the brothers saving your life.

"No worries," Dean replies, nodding at you. "We'll follow you back to the motel."

You nod back at him, glancing at Sam quickly before climbing out and closing the door behind you. You walk slowly over to your car, feeling the boys' eyes on you every step of the way.

You stop at the boot and, after unlocking it, lift it open. Shrugging off your coat, you swap it for a zip-up hoodie instead that covers the bandages on your wrists and you take out your gun and drop it into an open duffle bag.

As you push it shut, waiting for the familiar click that tells you it has locked, you rest your fingertips on top. You close your eyes as a wave of nausea hits, trying to breathe through it. The last thing you wanted to do was throw up here on the side of the road, especially in front of the boys.

You try to ignore it and walk to the driver's side, sliding into your seat and starting the engine, finally accepting how tired you are and how heavy your body feels. You grab the flask of half-empty, cold coffee from on the seat beside you and take a couple of gulps before recapping it and pulling away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post this, I had it written but my laptop decided to commit suicide, so I couldn't get to it for a while. I'm using a spare one temporarily but I should be getting a new one soon. Also writing on my phone is literally impossible 😂

Once you arrive back at the motel, you grab your phone from the drinks holder in the car where you'd left it. When you attempt to turn it on, you find that the battery is dead. Fishing out your room key, you walk over to your door and Sam comes towards you as you are putting the key into the lock.

"We forgot to tell you, the guy in the office will probably wanna know where you've been. He was here yesterday trying to get another night's payment, so Dean moved your stuff into our room earlier in case he came back and got rid of it." He says, keeping his eyes on the floor. 

"Oh, thanks." Is all you say, and you follow him to their room. 

Your bags are stacked in the corner and you go over to collect them, swinging one up onto your shoulder and picking the other up.

"Woah, where do you think you're going?" Dean asks, noticing what you are doing. You look up in surprise towards where he is standing by the door, car keys in hand.

"Back to my room?" 

"No, no, no, you're staying here tonight. The owner might come back if he sees your light on and we don't need that." He argues, and you can tell that no matter what you say, he won't change his mind. He's playing it off as practical instead of showing that he cares.

"You can have my bed." Sam starts, as he comes out of the dingy little bathroom, situated just off from the main room and you look over to him. He looks tired, more so than you had noticed earlier.

"No, it's fine I'll-" you start to protest, but Dean beats you to it.

"She can have mine, you two both need to get some rest." You're about to argue that he could probably do with a few hours himself. He doesn't look like he has slept since Sam went missing, but the look on Dean's face means business and so Sam just nods in resignation.

"I'm gonna go get some food, neither of you have eaten for ages. What do you like?" He asks, looking at you. You're not bothered, and after telling him that anything is fine, he nods, eyes flicking briefly back to his brother who is now sat on the bed furthest from the door.

Once Dean has gone, you sigh. Dropping your bags back onto the floor and pulling your hoodie off, dumping it on top of the rest of your stuff. You pull out your charger from your bag and plug it into a socket in the wall. As you attach your phone to the other end and put it onto the table, the screen lights up temporarily, then goes black again. 

The top you have on is looking decidedly worse for wear, and although at this point, you don't really care, you have to admit that a change of clothes would feel good. All you want to do is sleep and never wake up, but that was going to have to wait. 

You grab a clean top and pair of joggers from your bag and move over to the bathroom that Sam has just vacated. As you shut the door and lock it behind you, emotions flood your chest, feelings that you hadn't felt for a long time. You try to force them back down, not wanting Sam to hear you. 

Then suddenly it's as if your lungs have disappeared. Using the side to support you as you try to make your way over to the shower, you gasp for air. Turning the water onto full, you let steam slowly fill the small room and attempt to clear your head by inhaling deeply, but the hot air only chokes you, causing you to cough. 

Fighting it is useless, and so slowly, in the privacy of that gloomy little bathroom, you allow yourself to come apart.

Falling back against the closed door, you are aware of the dull ache from bruises that were formed when you were thrown against the wall of the cell, but don't pay them any notice. Gradually sinking to the floor, knees pulled up to your chest, you bury your face in your arms, the sound of the shower masking your sobs.

* * *

Your senses gradually start to return, and vaguely you hear the sound of Dean returning, the room door slamming behind him. Scrubbing at your face with your good hand, you get up, quickly stripping down to your underwear. 

You turn the shower water off and move over to the sink, using a damp hand towel to wipe at your face and hairline to get rid of the evidence of your breakdown. Once you are done you dress in your more comfortable clothes, pausing briefly to run your fingers through your hair in the slightly foggy mirror. 

It's only around 5 pm, but you notice the sky already beginning to go dark as you exit the bathroom and walk over to your bags, shoving in your dirty clothes. You pick your hoodie up off the top of the pile and put it on over your vest-top, not bothering to do it up as it isn't that cold. 

“Your phone went off a minute ago," Sam says, gesturing to the table where your mobile is still plugged in and confusion fills your mind. No one has your number. You can tell it shows on your face because he stands up, taking a few steps towards you.  "What's wrong? What is it?" He asks, but you just shake your head.

"Nothing, it's fine." You try to give him a smile that looks as genuine as possible, which seems to work. Inside you are still curious though, so you go over to check the screen. 

You breathe out when you see what it is, an alert to say that someone had tracked your phone. It was dated yesterday, and Sam had already told you that they had used your laptop to find your phone in your car. It was an old notification. You were just being paranoid.

"Come on, you two, eat. I didn't haul my ass across town to fetch food for you not to eat it." Dean's voice shakes you out of your thoughts - you'd forgotten he was even there - and you look up again to where he is standing but the small fridge, twisting the lid off a beer. He offers you one and you take it.

"Have you not got anything stronger?" You joke, and he laughs shaking his head. "No, sorry."

The bag of food is standing at the foot of his bed and he walks over to it, swinging it up onto the table next to you. He pulls out a burger, wrapped in paper with a bag of fries to accompany it, and then a tall cup filled with salad and a pot of dressing. 

"I got you the same as you had yesterday," he says as Sam comes over and takes them from him, nodding in thanks and sitting down in one of the two chairs by the old wooden table. Dean pulls out another box and hands it to you.

"I got you this," he says, and you open it to find lightly battered chicken strips and he passes you another bag of fries. "I wasn't sure what you liked."

"Thanks," you say, smiling up at him. "Good choice." He chuckles at that and moves to sit on his bed, leaving the second chair for you. Secretly you are rather surprised at what he bought, most men would have bought you something healthy, a salad similar to Sam's. However Dean hadn't, he had bought something that actually had substance to it, and you were grateful.

As you go to fetch a pair of socks from your bag, you turn slightly too swiftly and your hoodie slips off your shoulder, revealing your bare skin. You shrug it back on quickly, but obviously not fast enough as there is a sudden silence. When you glance back, the two boys have stopped what they are doing and are sitting there staring at you.

"What?" You ask, suddenly afraid that they had seen some of your scars.

"Y/N... Where did you get those bruises?" Sam starts quietly, trailing off at the end.  _ Oh crap _ , you think to yourself _. _ You hadn't thought about how they would look to someone who hadn't seen what had happened. From what you had seen in the mirror, they were a mix of purple and blue, covering most of your back.

"Y/N?" You'd taken too long to answer his question, still wrapped up in your head, and Sam stands up, coming over towards you. You don't meet his gaze and unconsciously slide your uninjured hand up over your shoulder - as if you could wipe them away.

"Oh, um... They were from the cell. I'm fine." He stops when he is directly in front of you, using a finger to lift your chin so that you are looking him in the eye. Emotions begin to rise in your chest again, but this time you manage to keep them down. _You will not cry in front of them,_ you scold yourself.

Both of the boys are taller than you, although Dean not by much. Sam was a different story, but you got the feeling that he was taller than most people and was used to it. Now, looking up into his eyes, you wanted nothing more than to melt away into the floor, feeling embarrassed that they had seen the result of your stupidity.

"Can I..?" He starts and gestures to your shoulder. You just nod, too tired at this point to resist. He reaches forwards, putting his large hand gently on your shoulder and slowly turns you around until you are facing away from him. You allow your hoodie to drop off your shoulders and hear his sharp intake of breath as he gets a better view of your back. 

From his reaction, you can tell that the parts he can see around your top are pretty bad. Remembering how hard you hit the wall, you can only imagine what the parts you hadn't been able to see in the mirror must look like. His fingers lightly trace your skin, and you shiver at the cold touch. 

After about thirty seconds you draw your hoodie back up, this time fastening it. You step away from him, hiding your face and move over to the pile of your stuff in the corner, grabbing what you had originally been trying to get. 

You tug on the socks, then go sit back down at the table, opening the lid of your food, which has now gone cool, and begin to eat in silence. You just want this to be over so that you can sleep. So that you can fall into the welcoming blackness and so that you don't have to constantly replay the last few hours over and over again in your head.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which you begin to learn a little about why I chose this title as the name of the story.

When you've finished eating, you take your empty container over to the waste bin by the door. The silence earlier had been broken a few seconds after you had sat down by Dean when he had turned on the room's ancient tv, the static crackling through the speakers almost louder than the actual audio.

Sam is already sitting on his bed, having moved there to eat after everything that had happened before. He's typing away at something on his laptop, but as you begin to move, he closes the lid and puts it away. 

You go back over to your phone, pulling the charger out of the wall now that your battery is full. Dean stands up too and as he moves over to the seat that you have just left, swinging his feet up onto the table, he turns the volume down on the television.

"Go on, you look like you need some sleep." He says, offering you his bed.  _ You have no idea,  _ you think as you move over towards the bed, placing your phone onto the table beside it after tossing your charger towards your bag. You sit on the cover, shedding your hoodie but keeping your back facing away from Sam so he can't see it. 

You pull the blanket up over your body from where it is folded on the bottom of the bed and lie down, burying your face in the rough fabric. You breathe in the motel's cheap laundry powder scent.

Someone turns the room light off and as the darkness surrounds you, your body begins to relax into the mattress. Despite the creak of springs every time you move, you allow exhaustion to take over, letting the quiet noise of the static lull you into a deep sleep. 

* * *

The first thing to hit you is the panic. Your mind registers the huge amount of pure emotion slamming into your body and it feels like you are being smothered, making it difficult to breathe. But if you could choose between the panic and what follows, you would always pick this. Every. Single. Time. 

Because what comes next is so much worse. 

It doesn't take long, and you should know by now. It's happened so many times before.

Fear.

Uncontrollable, unrelenting fear courses through your body and you flinch, trying to get away from the feeling that had flooded your mind. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, and even though you don’t know who or what you are scared of, you do understand that if you feared something that much, it couldn't be good.

You try to cry out, but no sound escapes your mouth. You are trapped. No matter how hard you struggle, you can't get away. Your arms are pinned to your body, and there's an itchy material holding them there tightly. You try to pull them free and a burning feeling explodes on both wrists. 

The pain grounds you enough to bring you to the edge of consciousness, and you fight to stay there, willing your mind to wake up. You form your hands into fists, digging your nails into the skin of your palms. One hurts a hell of a lot more than the other but that is good. Pain is good.

You jolt awake, breathing heavily as adrenaline courses through every vein in your body. The room is still shadowy, and as you lie there in the darkness you are able to make out the sound of two more people breathing steadily. 

You concentrate on the one closest to you and try to match yours with every inhale and exhale Sam takes, and after a few minutes you have calmed down enough that you know you aren't going to freak out.

It was the same thing every time and you were used to it, but that didn't mean it ever got any easier.

Squinting at the clock on the table beside you, you can just about make out that it is somewhere around 6 am. Nearly 12 hours wasn't bad, considering everything that had happened, and hopefully, it meant you wouldn't need to sleep again while you were with the boys.

_ At least you hadn't woken either of them.  _ They both need some rest too. The coarse blanket that was still draped over your body felt good between your fingers, and you hold on to it tightly, needing to feel that it is real, that you are awake.

_ Well, that's it for tonight.  _ You think, knowing that after that, your mind wouldn't calm down for at least a few hours. There was no point even trying. Staying here wouldn’t do you any good, so you slowly sit up, pushing the cover down and swinging your feet over the side of the bed. You stand, glad that your legs will hold your weight, and move silently over to your bags, pulling out your headphones and trainers.

As you pass by, you see Sam, his hair is spread out around his face which is buried in his pillow. Dean is sitting in the chair he had settled into earlier; his position looks rather uncomfortable and he's going to feel it when he wakes up.

After jamming your feet into the shoes, you grab your phone and headphones. You leave the room in only your vest-top and joggers. The instant you step outside you wish you had brought your hoodie, but it's too late now and you don't want to disturb the brothers so you'll just have to put up with it. 

Despite the darkness, you can still see your breath misting in front of your face. The pain still lingers on your wrists and when you glance down, you see that you have partially ripped the bandages that Sam had applied yesterday. You think about the bruises on your back too.  _ Oh, well. It's not like you're going to see anyone this early. _

The one on your hand is the worst where you dug in your fingernails, the thin material now stained with your blood. Even your right hand now has small, crescent moon-shaped marks along the skin of your palm. Ignoring them, you set off, walking at a quick pace to warm your body up, both for heat and so that you don't injure yourself further while you are running.

Running was the only way you had found that worked when you needed to calm yourself down and so you set off at a fast pace, plugging your music into your ears and turning the volume to max, wanting to block everything else out.

You push your body hard. Probably harder than you should - especially after everything it had been through the last few days, and you know there are going to be consequences later that will make you regret it. But at this moment in time, you don't care.

* * *

It takes almost an hour of solid running through this tiny neighbourhood to bring you down. 

You can feel your legs beginning to lose their strength, but you carry on, pushing through the pain. As you round a corner, the motel sign appears ahead of you, lit up in a neon red that hurts your eyes. It's still too early for sunrise, but while you've been awake, streaks of grey light have slowly begun to break through the darkness, announcing the inevitable sunrise to come.

By the end, the best you can do is stumble over to a tree on the edge of the small motel car park, just managing to catch yourself before you are throwing up what little you had eaten in the past 24 hours.

_ Yup, consequences. _

Sam spots you as you come sprinting around the corner and fear flashed across his features as he immediately starts towards you. He's outside the motel, pacing up and down with his phone in his hand, and begins running faster as he watches you almost collapse onto the floor by the tree. 

Your legs are trembling, and you aren't sure how long they will hold your weight for. Before they can give way though, you feel strong hands catch you under your arms and you lean against the rough bark, letting him hold you up.

He doesn't say anything, just waits for your breaths to calm down until they are more even. There is an acid taste in your mouth, and you swallow trying to get rid of it. Once he sees you are able to speak, he peppers you with questions.

“Was something chasing you? Are you hurt? What happened Y/N?” 

You just shake your head weakly, and once you can see that he at least understands you are okay, you start to move, your legs still shaky. Sam helps you walk, not saying anything but keeping his eye on you the whole time.

The first thing you do when you get inside is collapse onto the floor beside your stuff, running your hand through your hair and pushing back the loose bits that are plastered to your forehead with sweat. You find a bottle of water in your bag and down the entire thing, mainly to remove the taste that still lingers in your mouth.

You don't realise you are shivering until Sam wraps a blanket around you, still watching every move you make with worry in his eyes.

Not trusting your legs at this point, you stay sitting there, head resting against the wall. You close your eyes, chest still heaving as it tries to replenish the oxygen missing from your body. Sam fetches you a glass of water and you nod at him in thanks as you open your eyes again, taking smaller sips of it than you had done before as your heart rate slows.

It's only then that you realise Dean isn't there and then you see Sam, with his phone to his ear. 

"Yeah, Dean, I got her," he talks into the mobile, and you understand that they had been looking for you. The first thought in your head is  _ why? _ But you dismiss that pretty quickly because from what you had seen of these boys so far, they didn't need a reason. But for some reason, they cared about you. 

You sigh, wishing you'd argued harder to get your room back again, then none of this would have happened. They wouldn't have known you were out, and so wouldn't have worried about you. Normally this wasn't a problem because you always hunted alone and there was never anyone around.  _ It was so much easier on your own. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to post again, I've had massive writer's block but I'm trying! I really don't want to leave this story unfinished, believe me, I know what that feels like to the readers.
> 
> So here's a little new year gift from me just to say I haven't given up! 
> 
> hope you all have a happy new year!

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, thank you so much for reading, Kudos and Comments are much appreciated, whether it's just to say what you thought of it or if you have any suggestions, constructive criticism is always welcome! :)
> 
> If anyone is here from my Instagram, (@multifan.xdits) thank you so much for taking the time to read :)
> 
> Anyways, thank you again for reading, see you in the next chapter! <3


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